Maybe its better if you're smoking a joint?

You know what I miss? Black Angus. We used to make a 15 minute freeway drive because there wasn't a decent steakhouse in our area. Great steaks, the most amazing baked potato soup, a smashing Caesar. You know, good stuff. Then sadly a couple years ago they all closed up shop and POOF were gone.

Let us speak a bit about Texas Roadhouse if you will.

About a year ago Texas Roadhouse opened a location five minutes from our home. We have been on several occasions. I'm not a complete hater, as a matter of fact we went there for dinner last night, but I do have a couple beefs (please excuse the pun) with this joint.

I have a problem with the peanuts shells strewn casually all over THE ENTIRE RESTAURANT. I get that lil treats keep the hungry masses from turning on you and attacking your staff. That, however, seems to be in ample supply (every time I'm there I swear they have one staff member for every two patrons which is all fine and dandy but when they run out of stuff to do they walk the aisles prowling and flirting with each other, commenting on the adorableness of the others' studded jeans. No wonder the back of their T shirts desperately proclaim "I love my job!!" Why wouldn't they?). The peanuts kind of gross me out. Specially when I have to wade through them in my flip flops possibly catapulting shells in my wake all the way to my table.

Once at my table I have to yell over the cacophony of Boot Scootin Boogie and the wailing of Hootie minus The Blowfish to fellow diners. Then I stare blankly at our server while attempting to read his lips because I can't understand more then five words at a time. I get,"Cherry." "Cheese," and "Sooooo gooood." After that I just nod and smile. That place is LOUD. So if you were hoping on having a conversation, forget it. Two painfully shy people would find this the perfect place for first date dinner after a Bruckheimer movie.

After ordering I get to sit and stare at the likes of jackalope, burro blankets and Willie Nelson. Yeah I know its your restaurant Willie (which explains the twangy country and the fact that the staff will do a line dance to Jessica Simpson's These Boots Were Made For Walkin ) but why do I have to look at your ugly mug while eating? The food is decent. The steak is usually cooked how you ask for it. And if you wanna pay 2 dollars to have six mushrooms on it, well they can help you out there too. Lastly we have the Roadhouse birthday song that the staff screams at the top of their lungs and usually wraps up with an ear shattering "Yeeeeee Haaaaaaa!!!". Don't even get me started on how much I detest dining establishments that sing to customers.

So why do you ask? Why after all that negativity do I still go here?? Why do I complain about everything and still brave the crusted peanut shells between my toes at the table?

Because of these little darlings:

The honey butter rolls at Texas Roadhouse are my bitchy cryptonite. I LOVE them. I can honestly say I wanted to go there last night for these little piping hot carb balls and NO OTHER REASON. Thats it.